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Modern Books for Women

Bestsellers Ongoing Completed
The Secret Heiress: Freezing My Ex's Fortune

The Secret Heiress: Freezing My Ex's Fortune

I spent three years playing the "low-maintenance" fiancée to Eliseo Fitzpatrick, a billionaire who believed he’d rescued me from a life of discount clothes and rural poverty. I kept his secrets and balanced his books, treating our engagement like a cold, professional audit. But on my twenty-sixth birthday, the balance sheet finally broke. My best friend dragged me to a surprise party that turned out to be an ambush. I walked into a VIP suite to find Eliseo dazed and disheveled, with models draped over his lap and his shirt stained with wine that looked like a fresh wound. When I tried to leave, Eliseo’s guilt turned into a weapon. He pinned me against the door and hissed that without him, I’d be nothing but a country girl in Walmart rags. The next day, his "close friend" Sloane was in our apartment wearing his shirt, laughing that it was only a matter of time before she took my place in his bed. At his grandfather’s funeral, his family didn't even hide their contempt. His mother called me a gold-digging nobody, and his brother mocked me in front of the grieving crowd. "So, you're the village girl who tricked my brother?" They thought I was a penniless pawn, a girl they could discard now that the patriarch was dead and the Fitzpatrick fortune was up for grabs. I stood in their library, listening to them argue over the spoils of a man they never loved. I didn't cry, and I didn't scream. I just waited for the lawyer to open the final folder. "Arthur Fitzpatrick appointed a new executor," the lawyer announced, and the room went silent. "It’s Flavia Lancaster." I looked at my stunned fiancé and his greedy family, then pulled out my phone to freeze every single one of their bank accounts. "The audit begins now."
Too Late CEO: The Runaway Wife Returns

Too Late CEO: The Runaway Wife Returns

Corrie lay restrained on the sterile hospital bed, her wrists bleeding against the thick leather straps. Her husband, Damon, walked in with eyes entirely black with disgust and ordered the nurse to drain her rare blood. He believed Corrie had pushed Kara, the woman he claimed as his savior, and he was willing to drain Corrie dry to save her. "As long as she doesn't die, keep drawing. Kara's life is worth a hundred of hers." He ignored the frantic beeping of her heart monitor and walked out, leaving her slipping into hypovolemic shock. Using her last ounce of strength, Corrie escaped the clinic and hailed a taxi in the freezing rain, just wanting to survive. But the driver locked the doors and deliberately drove the speeding car straight off the bridge into the raging Hudson River. As the icy water swallowed her and she tried to swim out of the shattered windshield, a black-gloved hand grabbed her ankle. The inhuman grip dragged her down into the crushing, dark depths, filling her lungs with liquid fire. As her vision faded to black, Corrie's heart shattered into a million pieces. Why did the man she loved believe a lying stranger over his own wife? And who was the assassin in the dark water making sure she died? Five years later, Corrie walked out of the airport with a new, untouchable identity and a pair of genius twins. The freezing river had permanently ruined her heart and lungs, but it had also forged her into a ruthless survivor. She swore to never let the Holloway family touch her again, until her son's identical icy blue eyes caught the attention of the billionaire CEO she thought she had escaped.
The Price of Humiliation: Ava's Return

The Price of Humiliation: Ava's Return

I was eight months pregnant, standing frozen at a street festival when the ground shook violently. A piece of scaffolding broke loose, tumbling straight towards me. My fiancé, Liam, was just feet away, but he lunged, not for me, but for his young intern, Chloe, shielding her from the debris. I watched him go, then felt a sharp, blinding pain and a warm gush as my water broke. His eyes found me then, twisted not with fear, but with disgust, as he muttered, "That's so embarrassing!" before pulling Chloe away, leaving me to collapse on the pavement. Seven days later, I was discharged from the hospital; the baby was gone. Back home, I opened a package meant for Chloe, inside was a positive pregnancy test; two different stories, one of life, one of death. Liam acted annoyed by my absence, reeking of cheap perfume and sporting Chloe' s lipstick on his collar. He offered a vile apology: he left me because it "would have been humiliating" for him if people saw his fiancée "pissing herself in public." He thought I'd wet myself from fear, not from a devastating injury. His phone buzzed with Chloe's custom ringtone, her giggling voice, "Boss, you have a call!" Then I saw Chloe's Instagram picture from his office, her legs on his desk, captioned: "I just love making the boss smile. Wonder what he'd do if I ever left?" Liam had already liked it, replying, "Don't you dare! He'd have to track you down and handcuff you to your desk!" They were mocking me, celebrating my pain. My hand trembled, but my voice was steady as I dialed our wedding venue to cancel everything. I packed my last bag, leaving the life I thought I had behind. I' m done being his architect, his model, his forgotten fiancée. This time, I' m building my own empire.
Forced Marriage To The Possessive Tycoon

Forced Marriage To The Possessive Tycoon

My cousin and my ex-fiancé drugged me and locked me in a luxury hotel room with a stranger. Two weeks later, I sat on my worn mattress, staring at the two pink lines on a pregnancy test. Suddenly, my front door was violently kicked off its hinges. Axel Sterling, a ruthless billionaire, stepped through the shattered wood. He threw surveillance photos at my feet, accusing me of being a calculating gold digger who set him up. "You have twenty-four hours to terminate it, or I will end you both myself." He dragged me to a private clinic and forced me onto a cold examination table. His grandmother intervened just in time, forcing him to marry me to protect the family bloodline. But my nightmare only deepened. Axel locked me in his sprawling estate, treating me like a prisoner and a temporary incubator. His wealthy relatives bullied me daily, mocking the horrific chemical burns on my face and trying to scald me with boiling food. I was an innocent victim, yet I was trapped with a husband who threatened to throw me in the river and a family that treated me like a repulsive monster. But none of them knew my real face. In the dead of night, I locked my bathroom door and peeled off the silicone burn prosthetic to reveal my flawless skin. I pulled out an encrypted burner phone and checked my hidden offshore bank accounts. I would play the weak, disfigured victim for now, because I was going to use the Sterling family's immense power to completely destroy everyone who framed me.
Betrayed Heiress: A Storm Awakened Within

Betrayed Heiress: A Storm Awakened Within

I was the long-lost Donovan heiress, finally brought home after a childhood in foster care. My parents adored me, my husband cherished me, and the woman who tried to ruin my life, Kiera Reese, was locked away in a mental facility. I was safe. I was loved. On my birthday, I decided to surprise my husband, Ivan, at his office. But he wasn't there. I found him at a private art gallery across town. He was with Kiera. She wasn't in a facility. She was radiant, laughing as she stood beside my husband and their five-year-old son. I watched through the glass as Ivan kissed her, a familiar, loving gesture he’d used with me just that morning. I crept closer and overheard them. My birthday wish to go to the amusement park had been denied because he’d already promised the entire park to their son—whose birthday was the same day as mine. "She’s so grateful to have a family, she’d believe anything we tell her," Ivan said, his voice laced with a cruelty that stole my breath. "It's almost sad." My entire reality—my loving parents who funded this secret life, my devoted husband—was a five-year lie. I was just the fool they kept on stage. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Ivan, sent while he stood with his real family. "Just got out of the meeting. So exhausting. I miss you." The casual lie was the final blow. They thought I was a pathetic, grateful orphan they could control. They were about to find out just how wrong they were.